


Between Crooked Lines

by pyrrhic_victoly



Category: Bleach
Genre: Cheesy, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, M/M, OMG SO MUCH CHEESE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhic_victoly/pseuds/pyrrhic_victoly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> Kira is totally Renji's type, cheesy poetry and all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Crooked Lines

Renji had a _type_ , and a very specific one at that.  The people he found himself attracted to were few and far between, and they seemed different enough on the surface to get his drinking buddies wondering about what it was those once-potential love interests had in common.  

When asked for a list of qualities, he gave the standard response.  Someone tough, able to take charge, loyal, determined, and preferably calm enough to keep Renji in line when he blew his top.  Physically, just about any type would do, though there was something sensual about slim bodies with their clean, straight lines.  Other than that, sexual organs in good working order?  No hideous deformations or mental issues?  Recognizably human in appearance?  Yeah, he was good to go.

There was definitely something they all had in common, but Renji couldn’t quite put it in words.  It was a remnant from the time he’d spent in Inuzuri.  The scrappy little mutt in him was torn between wanting to marvel at the beautiful nobles with their graceful movements and speech... and wanting to knock them down, drag them into his world, _show_ them, prove himself to be _better_ than them.  And not only that, but there was a gnawing hunger that couldn’t be sated, and it wanted for him to flaunt his gorgeous lover possessively.  Like a dog strutting down the alleyways with a choice bone in his mouth.  He disgusted himself sometimes.

It was contradictory and stupid, but no matter how many times he told himself that it didn’t matter what other people thought of him, no matter how many times he said “Fuck those prissy bitches,” Renji still cared when he was looked down upon, and he didn’t know how to stop.  

They were always nobles, that was the thing.  Even if they didn’t start out that way, like Rukia, they were still always nobles.  It wasn’t even a status thing, but a sort of inner serenity, a subtle grace and quietness of spirit infused in everything they did.  The nobility he was attracted to was a nobility of spirit, not of birth.  He was in awe of them.  He was jealous of them.  He wanted what they had but didn’t want what they had; wanted to be with them but didn’t want to be shunned by them.  Want, want, want.  It was so confusing.  It was like he had a goddamn complex when it came to nobles.  He wanted, yet he didn’t even know why or how much or _what_ it was that he wanted.

And that was the contradictory feeling he got every time he fell in love like a fool: an intense longing both to guard and defile that person he had placed on an unreachable pedestal even though the purity he sought was neither the type that needed his protection nor could ever be stained.

Fuck, it gave him a headache.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Kira who figured it out.  He’d always been smart and level-headed (when he wasn’t being a sarcastic little shit).  Whereas Ikkaku had said, “That’s fucked up, man,” and Hisagi had said, “I think all of us Rukon dogs understand what it’s like to want more than we have,” Kira didn’t say anything at all.  First, his eyes had widened in surprise, and then they had closed.  When he opened them again, Renji could see the blue of them shining with a strange inner light.  Kira’s lips curled up in a secretive smile as he took a sip of his sake and let the conversation drift to other topics.

As the night wound down, the group slowly disbanded.  Ikkaku and Yumichika dragged their drunken squad back to the Eleventh’s barracks; Hisagi left further down the road, mumbling to himself about submissions deadlines and editorials.  Renji found himself making the last leg of the journey with only Kira by his side.

Kira was throwing him _that look_ .  Renji knew _that look_ very well, and he braced himself because Kira was a sarcastic little shit who made sarcastic-little-shit jibes.  He’d held back at the bar, but that was probably so he could embarrass Renji in private.  And if he had to be nice enough to hold back until he could embarrass Renji in private, then this verbal jab must’ve packed one helluva punch.  Any minute now...

“Wabi-sabi.”

“Wasabi?  What, you got a craving for sushi or something?”

“Wabi-sabi,” Kira corrected with a chuckle.  “It’s what you’re looking for in a lover, and what all your loves have had in common.  I think it’s beautiful.”

“Uh...  You mean like Wabisuke?”

Kira shrugged and said, “It’s poetry.  I can’t explain in words.”

The fuck?  Seriously.  What was poetry if it wasn’t words?  Renji wasn’t good with words, but Kira spent all his time poring over words and hidden meanings and symbolism and shit like that, and yet none of those words could get across what he was thinking?  Renji shook his head as he waved Kira off, and damn if that hadn’t been the most confusing conversation they’d ever had.

And that was saying something.  Because Kira, besides being a sarcastic little shit, also chose the worst times to get all _weird_.  Hey, they’d been roommates for a while at the academy.  Renji knew how seriously _weird_ Kira could get.  This, though, was damn near the top of the list.

 

* * *

 

 

It fucking bothered him.  Dictionaries and reference books had nothing to say on the subject.  Nothing that made sense, anyway.  All he’d gotten out of it was some shit about architecture and crazy rich people cracking their expensive vases on purpose.  (Who the fuck would do that to a perfectly good vase?  Curiosity got the better of him and Renji kept an eye on his captain, but saw no examples of such strange behavior.)

So Renji gave up trying to understand wabi-sabi, focusing instead on trying to get it to stop bothering him.  He chalked it up to being not-book-smart-enough to understand those kinds of abstract concepts.  That is, until Kira started being weird again.

He sent cheesy poems.

_Snowflakes melting on fingertips, petals blowing in the breeze.  The bang and flash of fireworks in the night.  Eyes like starlight, you marvel from afar._

 

He sent riddles.

_I long for you to complete me as I would you, but together we would still be incomplete.  We, alone imperfect, together imperfect, find perfection in imperfection._

 

He sent quirky little anecdotes that made Renji smile.

_My favorite teacup is crooked and has a chipped rim.  I must be careful not to drink from the chipped edge lest I cut myself.  Still, it is my favorite.  When I look at it, I see a sturdy old soldier proudly showing off his scars.  A man of indomitable spirit, he will not be beaten._

_Others, of course, see only a broken teacup._

 

The words alone meant nothing, but together they started to paint a picture of longing and sorrow, and also of joy.  But far from being depressing, it was a quieter sense of sorrow.  The little notes Kira sent made his chest ache - just a tiny twinge - in exactly the same way that looking at Rukia or Byakuya used to make him feel.  This was the twinge that he had come to associate with “love”, yet there was no one here this time; there was nothing here but words on scraps of paper.

Even though Renji was not-book-smart-enough, he still had to admit that Kira’s writing was beautiful, and very much _him_.  Nuanced.  That was the word, right?  Kira’s writing was nuanced, just like him.  And Renji had always known that Kira was beautiful in that noble way he so admired, but he hadn’t really _known_ because the guy was just too easy to hang out with.

Yeah, he could be prissy at times, and would sometimes scold their other friends for their sloppy ways.  And yeah, he was a bit of an artsy literature nerd. (But so was Hisagi, even though he looked like a punk.)  Kira was just... Kira.  He was always there.  They had epic bro-times together, and... and...

Two revelations made their way into Renji’s mind at that moment.  One was that Kira was attainable, and that’s why Renji had overlooked him.  There was everything Renji was attracted to in his friend, except he’d never gotten that love-twinge until now (and wouldn’t have gotten it anytime soon if Kira hadn’t forced it on him with his embarrassing love notes) because he’d never had the chance to beat himself up about how unattainable Kira was.  Because he wasn’t.  Unattainable, that is.  Kira was very much attainable.  He was so attainable that he was putting the moves on Renji through poetry.  It was like Renji was being _serenaded_ , or something equally fucked up.  He, Abarai Renji, gruff and crass and covered in scars and tattoos, was being... wooed? courted? as if he were a blushing maiden. If it were anyone but Kira, Renji would have kicked their ass for making fun of him. Kira was weird, though, so he probably meant it in an idealistic "I don't see why you shouldn't be treated as if you were just as precious as anyone else" kind of way.

And the second revelation that Renji had was that...  Somewhere along the line, their bromance had taken a sharp left at Gaysville.

Renji gathered up the notes and carefully set them aside.  It was time for some answers.

 

* * *

 

 

“What _is_ that feeling?”

“You felt it, then?  It worked?”

“ _What_ worked?”

“Wabi-sabi.  That twinge of... of happy-sadness.”

“Is that what it is?”  Renji exhaled loudly through his nose as he ran a hand through his hair.  “I dunno, man.  Why were you even sending me those sappy little love notes?  No offense, but that was weird even for you.  Like, girly-weird.”

Kira chuckled nervously and spoke in a rush.  “I just thought I’d share with you, help you out a bit, you know?  Just as a friend.  I mean, that is the same feeling that you get when you’re in love, right?  Some people feel nothing but happiness, and some people lose track of the rest of the world, but you’re looking for someone who makes you feel _wabi-sabi_ when you look at them, or so I thought--”

“Kira.”

“--from what you said--”

“Oi, Kira.”

“--and I didn’t mean to make you think I was trying to woo you or anything--”

“Kira.  Shut up.”

But Kira didn’t shut up - he was being stupid - so Renji got the honor of shutting him up.  It was clumsy and perhaps too eager, the way he claimed his friend’s lips.  It was rough and unsure, and yet he wouldn’t trade those imperfections for anything in the world.  There was sadness mixed in with the joy - sadness that this kiss would have to end.  The sorrowful squeezing in his chest at the thought of letting go made it all the more wonderful when they did it again.

This kiss, it had character.  It was painfully, awkwardly real .

When they parted, there was a moment of awe... before Kira’s frazzled mind caught up with the situation and he squeaked.   _Squeaked_.  It was thus Renji’s duty, as any good friend would, to snigger.

“You’re such a girl, Kira.”

Said girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “Just for that, I’m going to kick your hairy baboon ass back to the Stone Age the next time we spar.”

“Oooh, is that a date?  Can I call you my girlfriend?”

Said girlfriend’s dangerously narrowed eyes gained a certain glint of cold calculation, as if he were working out in his mind which parts of his hairy baboon now-boyfriend’s body would hurt the most if they weighed, oh, perhaps sixty-four times more than normal.  Maybe the ear lobe.  Or the hair.  Those were classics.

“Do you even know what a girlfriend is?” Kira asked.  He spoke softly (menacingly) while his right hand drifted in the direction of his big stick -- er, heavy stick -- er, heavy sword.  Sword that made things heavy.  Yeah.  That.  (Renji _really_ wasn’t good with words.)

Luckily for Renji, he was at least pretty smart in the ways of dealing with Kira when he was being a sarcastic little shit, which was often.  Much more often than most people knew.

He slung an arm over Kira’s shoulders.  “Hey.  You never answered my question that time.”

“What question was that?”

“Y’know, wabi-sabi.  Does it have anything to do with your zanpakutou?”

And Kira, the sarcastic little shit, grinned slyly.  “It has everything to do with Wabisuke.  And with me.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Eventually. You're slow, after all.”

"Hey!"


End file.
